New Ulm weekly review., 1887-04-13

coffee and delicious golden butter for.
the bread, and a supper fit for a. king
or two captains is ready.
The captain swallows all the coffee
without compunction,fo for Mary drinks
only milk or hot water. Perhaps that
is one secret of her tea rose complex
ion, together with the exercise she gets
in the housework, and can do any
thing about the house. Not that the
housework depends entirely on her.
They have a handmaiden of about
nifty years, bony and muscular, and
Grabbed and faithful, who has been
their maid OF all work ever since
Mary's mother died seven years ago.
1t would have been lonely for the
young Priscilla without the compan-
ionship OF this elderly maiden during
the long absence OF Captain Alden.
Grim and .homely the one; gentle and
lovely the other-the two are fast
friends. Mary humors the whims OF
Rachel, and Rachel in return scolds
and watches over and privately wor-
ships Pris- Mary.
Mischief is in the captains ewes as
he swallows his coffee and masticates
his beefsteak. He waits, however.
till the table is cleared, then Mary
finds herself set suddenly as on a ped
estal where lately the supper dishes
had been, and the captain is walking
around the table thinking he never
saw such a pretty bit of living statua-
ry. Amoment later the mischief fades
from his eyes as he sees the strong
likeness to another younggirl he knew
years ago. He catches her on to his
shoulder, thence down into his arms,
with a flush Of tears in his eyes.
"Now tell me all about it, he says.
"What means this Puritan rig-and
Grandmother Alden's spinning
wheel?''
"It's for an 'Old Folks entertain
ment at the church," says Mary "and
] am to be ePriscilla, the Puritan maid
en-; and Jacob Browne is to be John
Alden, and-oh, father! couldn't you
be Miles Standish?'
"And you have rejected me?" says
the captain. 'I couldn't stand that!
I'd act worse than Miles Standish ten
times over"
II think it was John Alden that
acted badly!" says Mary. II hate
him! Idon't think I could ever have
forgiven hin!'' -.-.
"Why SOP" said her father. . .
"Oh, for making me pop the ques-
tlon. | should feel so Inundated that
| should forever after hate the man
who made me do it. Such coward!
Making a. girl say she loved him, and
then not even telling her he loved her.
| never could have been Priscilla!"
'How does the next minister get
along? What's his name?''
Mary had stopped to lay O. new
log on the fire. She does not answer
for a moment. Then, with little
reserve in her tone, or something
which makes the words come a little
stihy:
"People like him. His name is
Endicotte.'
People do like the new minister.
The very shake of his hand warns
them to the heart. Quarrels, enmi-
ties, jealousies, the small hatreds Of lit
tie hearts, cannot live in such an at
mosphere as he creates. The church
has prospered since he came. He is a.
man with stirring New England blood
in his veins. The good old deacons,
while shaking their heads at some of
his advanced thoughts and methods
for church work, are yet glad to have
this young sinewy strength to pull
them up out of the slough Of Despond
in which they, like Christians, had AL
most stuck fast.
Now a library is to be formed, and
the ''old Folks is the means by which
the money is to be raised.
II the fall OF snowis heavy there will
be splendid sleighing, and as the affair
has been advertised in all the neigh
boring villages, they may expect a
crowd. The young will come for the
sleigh-ride; the old for the pleasure of
seeing the young.
John Endicotte is unmarried, and all
the goss1ps have been trying to pick
him out a wife. But b. smiles on all
and->turns from all.
Girl aces, sweet as flowers, gladden.
at his smile; faces growing withered,
with crowsfeet gathering at the eyes,
and care wrinkles beginning to show
on the forehead, grow strangely young
as he talks; boys and girls, young and
old, gather around, all but one, with
a face like a rose blossom. She is
never near for more then a moment,
though John Endicotte feels through
every fibre of his frame when she en-.
ters the room, and has a conscious
ness Of her presence wherever she is,
even though he may not see her.
That Sunday evening, when he
preached his first sermon, her eyes
looked up into his and his looked
down into hers, and their souls met,
it seemed. It had never happened
again. Something had come between.
When she looked at him, her eyes
looked, but her soul was hidden. He
had looked at her and watched the
color rise to her face and ebb away to
rush back again, and ebb and flow,
while she sat motionless, looking up
at the ten commandments emblazon-
ed on the wall. Even in the very
midst OF his sermon, when he, like the
born orator he was, was pouring out